


When in Doubt, Use Your... Hand?

by skullfragments



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Puns, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky is Done but loves him anyway, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, It's supposed to be funny, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers is a little shit, a lot of swearing, i guess?, i think it's funny, just because they're dopey in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 11:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17466347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullfragments/pseuds/skullfragments
Summary: "Holy shit," Bucky whispers, and Steve must catch onto his train of thought, because he's looking worriedly between Bucky's hand and the fire before they make eye contact. "This is a brilliant plan."Wherein Steve is injured during a mission gone wrong, and Bucky has to use some quick-thinking with their limited resources.





	When in Doubt, Use Your... Hand?

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is literally the first time ever I'm sharing my writing and I'm stressed af about it, but I really enjoyed writing this so I'm feeling confident (lol right).  
> Please comment/give feedback or even just let me know if it made you laugh at all, maybe even a chuckle or guffaw, if you will.  
> This idea basically came to me when I was sitting around one day and thought "What if one time on a mission Bucky had to use his metal hand to cauterize a wound?" and proceeded to laugh to myself the rest of the day with the countless ridiculous scenarios that would cause. That being said, I have no real medical knowledge and this is purely based on seeing people do this in movies.

Much later and leagues more tired than they were supposed to be, Bucky and Steve just barely make out of their mission alive. What was supposed to be an easy, in-and-out job went to absolute shit when Steve was ambushed on his trek out of the HYDRA base and Bucky temporarily incapacitated at his sniper perch.

(Temporarily meaning some motherfucking _drone_ came out of fucking nowhere to blast Bucky full of bullets before he roundhouse kicked that bullshit out of the sky and took out the gang of agents trying to sneak up behind him)

He had immediately swung down to meet Steve and get them the hell outta Dodge, seemingly unscathed. They outran the goons easily, and eventually found a shallow alcove between a cliff face and some boulders to lay low. Now, they fall back onto the frozen ground in the middle of dumb-fuck Canadian wilderness, avoiding the spots where traces of snow have iced over into frostbite land mines.

Bucky lets out a breath that curls out into the bitter air. "Could you let the team know to get us out of this hellscape? I'm gonna start a fire before my balls freeze up and fall off." Seriously, whose bright idea was it to send the only two people with serious cold-related trauma on a mission where there was heat _nowhere_? Bucky thought he would have actually gotten frozen in place up in his perch. _Fuck the cold_.

He gets up to find wood and dry leaves and whatever else seems to be scarce in this nightmare terrain, and hears Steve mumble into the comms for immediate extraction.

"ETA 45 minutes for retrieval," Steve reports. He huffs a mirthful laugh. "You'd think they'd have been on standby this whole time considering the bullshit ambush that set us back."

Bucky grumbles in response, scowling at the makeshift firepit before setting on getting a spark going. His scowl deepens when the tiny flares from the scrape of his knife against the _smallest fucking rock in the universe_ fail to catch onto the admittedly shitty ass kindling he scrounged together. He swears he hears Steve laughing behind him.

"Need some help there, pal?"

Bucky whips his head up, ready to ream into his smartass best friend when Steve cuts him off with a bark of a laugh.

"'m just kidding, Buck - cool it. Ha, pun not intended." Bucky feels his nostrils flare as he huffs through his nose. The next strike on the stone is maybe unnecessarily forceful, but he's frustrated and _cold_ and _HELL yeah_ it worked this time!

"HA! Check this shit out you bitchass punk," Bucky crows, "I have made _FIRE!_ "

Steve laughs, "I knew we shouldn't have watched 'Castaway' the other night," his voice breaking halfway through.

Bucky turns around to face Steve, slightly concerned, but still with a triumphant grin on his face.

"Hey are you alri-- Are you _bleeding??_ "

Steve has his hand clutched to his right side, blood staining his fabric of his suit and the pale skin between his fingers. His expression is sheepish, but there's clear pain underneath. Bucky scrambles over immediately, already wadding up a handkerchief from his utility belt and calculating how quickly Steve would heal so Bucky can beat his ass into next week.

"What the actual _fuck_ , Steve? You're fuckin' bleeding out and just decided to keep it to yourself??" He peels away Steve's blood soaked uniform, emergency hanky in hand, to get a look at the wound.

"It didn't seem so bad when it happened, barely felt it. But then exertion, and… _shit_ , ah…yeah." Steve winces at the contact, fresh blood gushing at the loss of pressure.

The wound is deep and wide and _ugly_ , and-

"What the hell kinda knife did you get stabbed with here, Steve? The guy have a fuckin' broadsword?" Bucky presses firmly with the handkerchief, already knowing it won't be enough when the blood soaks through to his palm almost immediately. When Steve cracks a small smile, Bucky sees the dark red on his inner lips. Something sick in his stomach twists.

Bucky connects into the comms with a quick press to his ear. "ETA for retrieval?"

Natasha's smooth timbre responds coolly, "ETA 25 minutes. Just huddle for warmth, Barnes." Any other time Bucky might appreciate the humor in her voice, but for now he cuts the connection with something close to a growl.

"You know, the guy had more like a spear type of weapon. Lunged with it. I dunno, it was weird," Steve supplies, a bit of a smirk on his lips.

"Hell, you're killing me here, Steve. If you die from a stab wound after all the shit we've gone through I'm gonna bring you back just to kill you again myself. At least it'll be a better story," Bucky strains, "You smartass, punk ass-- Fuckin' killing me. I don't know how I haven't died from the stress. How has my body not yet given up from the stress of your reckless bullshit?" But Steve just grins, his eyes starting to look heavy, and Bucky's panic kicks up another notch. He looks down at the blood seeping out from under the saturated cloth that he's white-knuckling and comes to a frankly shitty realization.

"The bleeding won’t stop, gotta cauterize it," he states, already digging out all the metal blades he has on his person. He mumbles angrily about the team taking their sweet-ass time picking them up while Steve _bleeds out, the bastard_. Bucky continues to swear as he goes through all his knives, all too short or too narrow to use, and Steve's eyes are drooping more and more by the second.

"What the _fuck_!" Bucky shouts in frustration at his pile of very shiny and currently very useless knives. "How do we not have _anything_ wide enough for this fuckin' spear bullshit hole in your stomach? It's like the size of my fuckin' _fist_ how the h--"

He cuts off abruptly as his eyes catch the gleam of the fire reflecting off his metal hand.

"Holy shit," Bucky whispers, and Steve much catch onto his train of thought, because he's looking worriedly between Bucky's hand and the fire before they make eye contact. "This is a brilliant plan."

Steve's worried look only increases as Bucky sticks his hand into the fire, who's sure he must have some weird expression of epiphany on his face. It's a strange sensation, the fire. Bucky's metal arm, courtesy of Wakandan technology, has sensitivity to things like pressure and temperature. So he _feels_ the intense heat of the fire, but it doesn't quite hurt as it curls around his fingers. He knows it's something he'll definitely be experimenting with later.

"Okay," Bucky says as he pulls his hand free, turning back to Steve, "You ready for this?"

Steve grimaces but nods. They share a deep breath as they both brace themselves, and Bucky presses his searing hot metal appendage to the gaping hole in Steve's abdomen. Steve screams through his teeth at the pain and Bucky finds himself doing the same - whether or not his was more of a high-pitched shriek of terror is absolutely not up for discussion.

Bucky pulls his hand off after a moment and immediately sticks it through one of the frozen over mounds of snow. Steve is writhing where he sits, obviously trying to push past the excruciating burn Bucky just forced upon him. The apologizes are pouring out of his mouth before he can even think about it.

"Fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry. I know it hurts, doll, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have- I should--"

" _Shut up_ , Bucky," Steve growls, catching his floundering flesh hand. "It worked, right? Now we just-" he bites back a groan, "we just wait for Nat."

He presses their hands to his chest, where Bucky can feel Steve's pounding heartbeat.

Bucky swears again before contacting Natasha again.

" _Where are you?_ "

"It's been five minutes, Barnes," she sounds more than a little exasperated. "Still at least fifteen minutes out."

"Steve's hurt. We need medical immediately."

There's a pause, but Natasha must hear the panic in his voice because her response is contrite before cutting out.

"We'll be there in seven."

Bucky shuffles closer to Steve, half pulling him into his lap, hands still clasped. He tries to smooth away the lines of pain on Steve's face, murmuring calming words and apologies into his hair. Bucky presses a soft kiss to Steve's temple and hope he stays conscious while they wait for extraction.

* * *

True to Natasha's word, the quinjet lands before them in seven minutes - maybe even faster. A couple people rush out with a stretcher for Steve, but Bucky just hauls him up in one arm and brings him inside himself. The medics are quick to lay Steve down and get to work, and Bucky resolutely hovers over them.

Natasha comes up behind him, eyebrows furrowed in concern. "What happened?"

"Got hit when we were ambushed and made it worse when we high-tailed it outta there. Deep wound, he said the guy had some sort of spear thing, whatever. It wouldn't stop bleeding, so… I cauterized it."

Natasha peered past his shoulder to get a look at Steve and the horror of his bloody and gnarled abdomen, now burned-over in a rather conspicuous shape. She must have been thinking the same thing about the state of his injury because she turns back to Bucky with raised eyebrows.

"What'd you use?" She asks, though he knows she already knows the answer.

"Well, I had made a fire because it's _hellishly_ cold out there. 'Huddle for warmth' thanks for that, by the way." Natasha just smirks, obviously pleased with her joke. "And then, well, none of my knives were big enough to do the job, so we, uh… improvised." He wiggles his metal fingers.

"Cap's stable. We'll bring him to medical back at base, but he'll be fine," one of the medics interrupts.

"Nice job, boys," Nat says loud enough for Steve to hear, and she continues to smile as she pats Bucky's shoulder and turns back to the cockpit.

Bucky finds himself rolling his eyes before rushing over to the cot Steve lies on. He kneels next to him, curling their hands together.

"You alright, doll?" He whispers, brushing the knuckles of his free hand against Steve's cheekbone. Steve smiles in response.

"Yeah, Buck. They pumped me full of painkillers, patched me up - I'm all good."

Bucky drops his head onto the mattress, tears suddenly threatening to make an appearance. He feels Steve's fingers ghost across his scalp.

"I'm sorry, Stevie. I shouldn't have-- I never want to see you in pain like that, and I'm sorry I caused it." Steve's hand is prodding at him, now, and Bucky looks up to see Steve's exasperated yet soft expression.

"Buck, you had to do it. I know you didn't willingly hurt me, you _saved_ me. I could'a bled out before the team got here. Which, by the way, they said it was good quick thinking." They share a smile before Steve's grin widens in a way that only means trouble and he continues, "You have great _handiwork_."

Bucky's expression turns flat as he stands, "That's it, I'm breaking up with you." He turns away, but Steve catches his hand, laughing, dragging him back to the bedside.

"You punk," Bucky mutters as he kneels back down.

Steve's still grinning, eyes crinkled at the corners. "C'mon, that was a great pun. You don't appreciate me enough."

"I appreciate you multiple times a day when we have the time," he quips, causing Steve to laugh again.

"I love you, you jerk. Even if I'll now have a burn scar in the shape of your hand on my stomach for the rest of life."

"You're just lucky you weren't stabbed in your ass," Bucky grins back, "I love you too, dumbass."

**Author's Note:**

> So does each of the Avengers and co. now have a hand shaped burn scar somewhere on their body after this truly amazing discovery? Bucky: "Don't worry I got it!" *heats up hand* Anyone, now shuffling away: "Well I guess I'm just gonna have to let myself bleed out then." 
> 
> you can find me on [tumblr](http://www.skullfragments.tumblr.com)! i don't really post stucky stuff (or anything, really) but I'm more than happy to scream about Marvel or life in general if you message me


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